The pointy end goes IN the knee

Last Monday, I got an anti-inflammatory medication injected directly into my evil, right knee.  This makes me all manner of wiggly, and even though in the grand scheme of medical tests and procedures it is a cake walk, it stills feels disgusting and is painful.  At least to me.  My doctor was nice enough to inject the needle into one of my old arthroscopic surgery scars from 1984 and he also numbed the skin up with some magical freezing spray that I've seen in the pharmacy a millions times before but have never really paid attention to it.  Now I know what it does.  The shot took around 2 to 3 mins, but it felt like 20.  At one point I must have been holding my breath because he told me to take a breath but I didn't.  I'm one of those people that tenses up and holds their breath whenever something painful is happening.  I also know that this is not a good thing to do and you run the risk of passing out when you do this.  I mention all this because by today, Friday, I'm virtual pain-free in my knee and I'm doing things that several weeks ago would have brought me to tears and close to blacking out. 

This small episode of medical drama in my life reminds me that there are so many unpleasant things we need to go through in order to get what we want in life.  It was one of my worse weeks with my coworker this week and amongst many, other topics discussed, was the subject of what we control in our lives.  A constant, running theme with this coworker is her continual need to see herself as a victim and the subject of fate with no control on her part.  And, I, of course, pretty much feel that we are in control of our lives, for the most part.  Obviously, there are things that happen to us that we don't have control over, but for the most part we can control how we handle the events of our lives.  Case in point:  Coworker hates her job.  So, I tell her to find a new one and she tells me that it won't happen, she can't find a different job, that she shouldn't have to work, and blah, blah, blah.  So, she sits at a job she hates and complains about it all the time.  She does nothing to change her situation except continually and loudly tell me that she is retiring.  (yeah, in a year)  Personally, I can't wait for her to leave.  There are many, many, examples with this person of things she doesn't like but won't change.  Almost all of them are in her power to change them. 

I waited a week and a half before I built enough courage up to get that shot in my knee.  But, as the doctor told me "come back when you've had enough of that knee" I realized he was right and that I was being silly.  You need to get through the awful before the good.  There's also no promise that the medication will last, but for now it feels pretty good. 

My coworker will not change.  She is unwilling to go through what she needs to in order to make herself happy.  Which also leads me to believe that she doesn't want to be happy.  I find this thought disturbing, but I'm really beginning to believe it.  Not only does she not want to be happy, but she wants everyone else to be unhappy too.  And that they should be happy being unhappy.  If that even makes sense. 

I had a full-blown migraine this week.  Rage, visual aura, headache, light and sound aversions, the whole kit and caboodle.  As I thank God for the miracle that is Maxalt, I realize that better living through chemistry really is my motto.  But, the next day, my coworker decides that she needs to fill every drawer in the room with plastic vials from a distance of about three feet.  Just open the box and let the vials pour out.  When I ask her to stop doing this, she gets a smirk on her face and informs me that I should just change my situation if I don't like what she is doing.  She thinks that she's turned the tables on my comments to her, so I decide right then and there that there will never be another kindness towards her from me.  She will get civility, but nothing else.  I change my situation all right, and to one she will regret.

And that is all I am going to say about her.  I've wasted too much of my energy on her, she has sucked too much of my life away for my liking and I'm not going to let her do that anymore.  I'm done with her.  She is not worth my time and that is my situation to change. 

Confessions of a car singer

I love to sing.  But not in public.  I don't think I'm a terrible singer, but I'm not good either.  As a result of that, I sing in the car.  Loudly, proudly, and constantly.  Unless, of course, the husband is with me.  I sing alone in the car.  Yes, I'm one of those crazy looking people who sing away regardless of other drivers staring and laughing at us.  Sometimes, if I'm lucky, the person in front of me in the left lane on the freeway will think I'm having an episode of road rage at them and will move over out of my way.  All they see is this crazy woman voicing something LOUDLY and assume it is anger directed at them.  Well, sometimes it is, but mostly it's me and some good singin' tunes. 

As I've mentioned ad nauseaum, I commute a sizable distance every day to work.  Now that I've transferred to UWM, I don't go to Sheboygan two to three times a week, so my singing time has been cut a bit.  Still, I manage to belt out tunes on the 45 minute drive one way to work.  What do I sing you ask?  Well, a mixed variety of classic rock, goofy tunes, show tunes, classical music, and opera.  I can hit soprano notes after some warm up, and there are days I'm good and can sing in tune and days I'm horrible and dogs are howling all the way to Milwaukee.  Then, there are just the good driving tunes that are fun.  Sometimes I think I'm performing and think about how different my life would be if I had chosen that path, and sometimes I sing just because it's easier to do that than to think about life at that moment. 

  I find that car singing is a great way to leave my work issues behind.  My job is pretty high on the aggravation factor, and some days it really proves it.  Today, was a perfect storm of first of the month (all financials are due), a half day because of school, work not being or getting done, crazy coworkers who didn't realize it is May 1st (or didn't care), and the current evil that is Ascension Health Project Symphony.  I'm not going to go into detail about Symphony because it has taken an hour at the Y, a slow drive home, a very hot shower, and pizza to put my anger away for the night.  But, needless to say, I was belting out tunes with Jackie (Evancho) all the way home.  I don't understand a word of Latin, but I can make the sounds pretty evenly.  She, however, has a perfect voice and I still marvel at her range and maturity.  She is one of the few people I've heard who I think has a real gift from God.  Anyway, I love singing with her because most of her pieces are slower and I can change pitch easier with her than with others.  Say, the Queen of the Night aria from Mozart's Magic Flute.  I can't quite hit those high notes, but I can get most of the piece.

There you have it.  I'm a car singin' maniac and I freely confess it.  I'm not sure what I'll do when I get one of those fancy cars that listens to you when you talk.  I wonder if I'll have to get ear plugs for the car?